


small world

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: “Felix,” she said, sounding stern. “Did you draw smiley faces onto the tactical models?”“Of course not,” he responded, hastily pocketing the toy. “That would be ridiculous.”





	small world

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my personal "500 words or less" challenge a few months ago. Based on the single strangest yet wholesome and enduring headcanon I've ever had; much credit/blame to the lovely Stewart.

Felix Gaeta never _intended_ to make dolls of all his friends and coworkers. That would have been weird and kind of creepy.

That said, the end result was pretty adorable.

It had all started when, during a battle scenario, he realized that the ability to model crew positions similar to how he already modeled the placement of raptors and vipers could be handy, especially as the number of plots and secret missions devised on the Galactica had increased alarmingly.

And so, the next time the Admiral asked him to lay out placements of crew member for the latest mission of questionable morality and dubious success, Gaeta rounded up a bunch of spare plastic pegs from the mechanics bay and affixed little paper labels to them, identifying them as Adama and Starbuck and Apollo and so on. 

It had proved a useful tool for visualizing movements and so it had stuck. It was just that, over time, the plain plastic pegs had gotten rather more elaborate in their appearance. The first addition had come when, during an idle moment while the ship was slowly crawling its way through an ion wind storm, Felix had doodled little faces onto the pegs. He had never claimed any particular artistic ability but the sight of his tactical models looking back at him with little eyes inked indelibly onto their “faces” made him smile and smiles were precious in Gaeta’s world.

In an effort to spread the joy, he’d made Dee’s miniature doppelganger dance along the edge of her desk.

“Felix,” she said, sounding stern. “Did you draw smiley faces onto the models?”

“Of course not,” he responded, hastily pocketing the toy. “That would be ridiculous.”

“It would,” replied Dee. “And also incredibly cute. Give me that.”

He handed it over. She examined it with a small smile.

“Did you do this to all of them?” she asked. “Or just me?”

“All of them. The one for the Admiral is scowling.”

Dee’s smile widened. “Of course. Accuracy is important.” She pulled a few more from the proffered box and studied them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” Dee answered, not looking away from it. “Just a dumb idea...”

Two shifts later, she handed him a half-dozen tiny tubes of blue fabric. He looked back at her, questioningly.

“Uniforms,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “For your little people.”

She had fashioned tiny pips and buttons out of clever knots of thread. They were recognizably fleet uniforms, even if they were made for creatures with no arms.

“Dee, these are incredible. And incredibly weird,” said Felix. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied. “To anyone.”

He nodded and set about sliding the tiny uniforms onto his dolls. They fit perfectly.


End file.
